


Drunken Confessions

by avengetheworld



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, i just love yoosung and seven so much, it's really fluffy and involves big brother Zen ok, this is the first work im posting so be gentle w me plz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-15
Updated: 2016-11-15
Packaged: 2018-08-31 03:30:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8561887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avengetheworld/pseuds/avengetheworld
Summary: Yoosung gets drunk at Zen's place and accidentally reveals a secret he's been holding back for awhile: the fact that he has a crush on Seven. When Zen tells him some shocking info, he decides to take matters into his own hands.





	

He should have known better than to drink with Zen. Every time he did, he ended up crying, drunk blogging, and somehow admitting something completely embarrassing.  
Tonight was no exception. At all. In fact, it was probably the worst time he had ever drank, because he had admitted one of his deepest secrets, a fact that he barely even breathed out to himself before going to bed and staring up at his Christmas lights.  
He liked Seven.  
Even though it took him some time to realize it, as soon as he had, everything had started to make sense—how he always wanted to go over there and play games, how his heart skipped a beat whenever Seven defended him… and how he just really wanted to lean forward and press his lips to Seven’s, even if they were covered in Honey Buddha Chip crumbs.  
It was bad.  
And now Zen knew about it.

  
The night had started innocently enough with the two of them joking around and getting snacks, planning on binge watching Mad Men and chilling. But of course, Zen saw the beer in the fridge and thought it’d be a great idea to drink one or two. He knew that Yoosung was a lightweight, but he figured that just one would be okay…  
He had been wrong.  
After around thirty minutes, Yoosung had finished his first beer and was halfway through his second, glazed eyes staring at the TV. For Zen, the beer had pleasantly warmed his body, but he didn’t even feel tipsy, though he was into his third. Yoosung had been quiet for several minutes before suddenly sniffling.  
“I’m so lonelyyyy…” he whined, and Zen cursed internally. It looked like it was going to be one of those nights, judging by the slurred words and the way purple eyes swam with tears.  
“I’m right here, you jerk. Now just watch the show,” Zen said, trying to salvage the situation, but Yoosung was already rubbing his eyes, wiping away the tears and sniffing pathetically. With a wail, he threw himself against the couch, arms flung over the back of it, hair mussed from smashing it on the cushions. Two bobby pins went flying, unseen and most likely never to be found again.  
“Nooooo…I meant…romantically…! Nobody loves me…”  
Okay. It was definitely going to be one of those nights.  
“Dude, you’ll be fine. You just haven’t found anybody you like yet. Once you do, then just tell them and romance will blossom! It’s simple enough.” Though Yoosung was drunk, Zen enjoyed the chance to spread his romantic knowledge. It made him feel important.  
“I…I do have someone I like…but it’s impossible…He doesn’t like me, he wouldn’t ever, I’m just a kid to him…” The words, though whiny and high-pitched with drunkenness, were extremely self-deprecating and it hurt Zen to hear Yoosung, one of the greatest guys he knew, talk like that.  
Wait. He liked a guy?  
Zen knew Yoosung was bi, but he didn’t know there was actually a guy in Yoosung’s life. If there was, Seven was going to flip his shit and have to do a very thorough background check.  
“Hey, don’t say that! How do you know he wouldn’t like you?” Putting his hand on Yoosung’s sweaty shoulder, he attempted to comfort the younger RFA member, but Yoosung was now crying in earnest and didn’t seem to notice the gesture.  
“Because he’s great and talented…and funny and protective and cool… why would he like me? I’m just… a nobody, a college kid with an addiction to gaming…” More tears fell onto the couch, droplets turning the fabric darker with their dampness. Burying his face in the cushion, Yoosung slumped over until his forehead rested on one of Zen’s thighs. With a sigh, Zen shifted his hand to Yoosung’s messy hair, petting the blonde stands almost motherly.  
“C’mon, don’t say that about yourself. You’re an awesome guy. Anybody would be lucky to have you. Just tell him how you feel--”  
“I can’t!” interrupted Yoosung, the outburst startling Zen. Though it had been a loud exclamation, there was no anger in it, just sadness and resignation.  
“Seven wouldn’t know what to do…and I don’t want to make things awkward between us…” More sobs slipped out of Yoosung’s mouth, his words interspersed with his hitching breaths. “He’s such a great guy…and I just…I really like him…I want to be around him all the time and whenever I get close to him…I wanna kiss him so bad…” Getting his sadness out of his system, Yoosung pressed the sleeves of his jacket to his eyes and continued to cry, his shoulders shaking.  
The guy Yoosung liked was Seven…? It made a bit of sense now. The two always seemed to skirt around each other, Yoosung always shyly glancing at Seven when his back was turned. But now that Zen knew it went beyond flirtatious glances, he felt his forehead begin to sweat at the memory of another time a man admitted his affections for a member of the RFA…

 _This time, Yoosung had swallowed two shots before they were able to realize he was getting completely wasted and stop him. The two guys who had gone out with him, Seven and Zen, had to suffer through him blubbering about being alone before finally getting him home and in bed. On the way home, he had sniveled about being cold, so Seven had rolled his eyes and stripped off his jacket, wrapping it around Yoosung’s shorter form. Thanking Seven profusely, Yoosung fell into a silence broken only by his residual sniffles. Once Yoosung was put to bed, he had fallen asleep almost immediately, and the two left—who were also very drunk—went to the kitchen to drink some water, knowing that dealing with Yoosung in the morning with hangovers would not be a wonderful thing._  
_“Y’know,” Seven said out of nowhere, surprising Zen, “I wish Yoosung wouldn’t talk like that. I don’t think he realizes just how popular he actually is with people.”_  
_“I know,” Zen replied, sipping his water. “There were at least four people eyeing him tonight, and I was standing right next to him. That’s saying a lot.”_  
_“Ah, yeah…Those people…they wouldn’t be good for Yoosung. If they only like him for how he looks.” Though Seven was drunk, his words were serious, as were his golden eyes behind his lenses._  
_“Who would be someone good for Yoosung? A fellow gamer, perhaps?” snickered Zen, thinking of Yoosung gaming all night long with someone. True love._  
_“Well, not someone like me, that’s for sure.” The statement was said with an enormous amount of sadness, a small sigh escaping Seven’s mouth afterwards._  
_“…Seven…are you saying…” Zen slowly asked, not sure if his tipsy brain was reading too much into the situation._  
_“Just forget it, Zen. I’m not good enough for him and there are plenty of people who are…don’t tell him about this conversation, please.” Seven dismissed the conversation, chugging his water and refusing to answer when Zen asked again. Since then, Zen hadn’t missed the longing looks Seven had been giving Yoosung whenever nobody was looking._

Of course this would be something that would happen to the two idiots…! If only they knew the other’s feelings for them…  
“Seven does have feelings for you, he told me! He just doesn’t think he’s…” a part of the conversation jabbed itself into his head.  
_‘Don’t tell him about this conversation, please.’_  
But Yoosung had already lifted puffy eyes up to Zen, tears no longer falling. There was a mixture of hope and skepticism on his face and Zen couldn’t hurt him like this.  
“He doesn’t think he’s good enough,” Zen finished, shrugging. A pout twisted Yoosung’s face.  
“What a bunch of bullshit…He too is a good guy.”  
There was a silence as the two of them thought about what had just happened, Yoosung’s mind working overtime in its alcohol addled state.  
“Well, I think it’s time to call it a night. You are going to drink a glass of water and go to bed, my friend.” Zen made the executive decision, standing up and guiding a wobbly Yoosung to Zen’s bed. The couch wasn’t terribly uncomfortable and he wanted to restart the episode they hadn’t paid any attention to.  
Surprisingly, Yoosung was quiet throughout the whole journey to the bedroom, most likely thinking about what Zen had just told him. Without much fuss, Zen was able to get Yoosung into the bed, pulling the covers up and leaving an extra glass of water on the nightstand next to the bed.  
“Get some sleep.”  
Yoosung just nodded, eyes already shut, lower lip wobbling. With an effort, he bit it to try and stop the trembling, but it didn’t work. It was a valiant effort, anyways.  
“And Yoosung…” Zen stood at the door, waiting until Yoosung opened his eyes to look at him, “you should tell Seven how you feel.”  
Then he closed the door, smirking at how great of a matchmaker he was.

After Zen’s confession, Yoosung couldn’t sleep. Though his body, exhausted and drunken, screamed at him to, his mind raced with the thought that Seven could like him back. But it was impossible. Zen must have just read Seven’s words wrong.  
But…what if he did? What if Seven wanted Yoosung just as much as Yoosung wanted him?  
As soon as he thought of it, all the scenarios popped into his mind unbidden: waking up in the morning to Seven’s ridiculous bedhead next to him, making breakfast for him and scolding him for not eating proper meals, playing video games all night, being able to kiss Seven goodbye as he left for classes… Biting his lip, he imagined the more risqué parts of the fantasy—proudly showing off his love marks, proving to everyone who he belonged to, getting to be the only person to hear Seven’s moans, being able to wrap his hand around…  
Okay, maybe those thoughts weren’t the best to have when he was drunk and in Zen’s bed. With a huff, he rolled over onto his side, squeezing his eyes shut.  
Could he get the courage? Could he…could he tell Seven how he felt…?  
At this hour of the night, with the moonlight highlighting the bed in its silvery glow and making everything seem ethereal and magical, he believed that he could. In fact, if Seven invited him over tomorrow, he would tell him. He would.

In the morning, Yoosung woke slowly, his head throbbing, the sunlight piercing his eyelids and lancing through his skull. When he groaned, he especially felt the nausea that he knew would plague him all day—it always did when he was hungover—and tried not to make it worse by lying completely still and wishing he hadn’t drank as much as he did.  
As he became more aware of his surroundings, the night began to come back to him in increments—eating snacks on the couch, drinking  the beer even though he hated the taste, falling over on the couch and…crying…about how he liked Seven…  
His eyes flew open, mouth falling agape as he realized he had confessed his feelings for Seven to Zen. Head reeling from the hangover and shock, he sat up, resisting the urge to vomit, and buried his face in his hands, feeling the heat coming from his cheeks.  
Oh, god…he had actually done that! It hadn’t been a terrifying dream—it was a reality, and he knew Zen wouldn’t forget about it. But…as the night became more clear in his mind, the memory of Zen saying that Seven liked him back stuck out.  
Could it be true? Now that he was sober, the idea seemed less likely to him…But he also remembered the promise he had made to himself about telling Seven about his feelings if the red haired man invited him over. Part of him wished desperately that Seven would ask him to come over and part of him feared the invitation, but they were fairly even….  
He groaned out loud at the conflicting emotions, still covering his face. Maybe Zen would just never talk about it again and Yoosung could forget about it and Seven would never be the wiser about Yoosung’s ridiculous crush.  
As he settled on that solution, his phone chimed and he yelped, jumping as the chirping sound startled him. Reaching over, he picked it up, scowling when he saw that it hadn’t been plugged in and was on 14%. Ignoring that travesty, he scrolled through his messages, biting his lip when he realized he had drunk texted a few people… But there was one from 1:23am that caught his eye.  
_Saturday, November 12_ th, 2016  
1:43am  
Yoosung: I F HES ASKS ME T OCOME OVER IM GAONNA SA Y YES AINDDD!!! I’LL TELL HIMJ HOW I FEEL!!!! P ROMISE

Shit. Now he knew Zen would never stop giving him hell about it, and Yoosung was terrible at lying…Scrolling through the rest, he noticed that there was also a text from Seven, which made his stomach leap. Hopefully he didn't drunk text Seven anything embarrassing...  
Letting out a slow, calming breath, he opened the text, skimming through the memes Seven had sent him, only to be completely frazzled as soon as he read the most recent text that he received from him.

 _Saturday, November 12_ th, 2016  
9:25 am  
Seven: GUESS WHO GOT THE NEW EXPANSION PACK FOR LOLOL!!!! come over you have to try and beat me (if u can) lolololol i’ll provide snaxxxx >83c

What did he do? He had promised himself and Zen that if Seven invited him over that he would tell him how he felt… and damn Seven had to have the worst timing, that red haired, bespectacled gremlin…  
The door abruptly flew open, slamming against the wall and leaving Yoosung to scramble out of the bed, shrieking.  
“Are you awake?? Good! I made breakfast. Go out to the kitchen!” Zen was standing, wearing an apron, one of his hips cocked out, a hand placed sassily upon it. Heart still pounding from the sudden shock, Yoosung stood up, electing to just show Zen the text, staying silent. Spatula still in one hand, Zen read the message, crimson eyes widening at the implication.  
“…Are you going to do it?” Zen asked when Yoosung pulled his phone away. Biting on his lip, Yoosung glanced down at his feet, unable to deal with the knowing look Zen was giving him.  
“I…I don’t know…I…I think I might,” Yoosung whispered, terrified just at the thought. Staring lovingly at Seven whenever he didn’t notice was one thing, but actually coming to terms with his feelings and expressing them verbally to Seven… that was a whole other predicament. His anxiety began rising, chest growing tight, but Zen took his arm and dragged him to the kitchen. Though his stomach was upset from his hangover and anxiety, Zen forced him to at least try and eat some rice, claiming that he needed his strength to woo over Seven. The words sent another wave of anxiety through his body and he resisted the urge to run, instead focusing on every single grain of rice that went into his mouth.  
“Did you text him back?” Zen suddenly asked, shoveling food into his mouth, causing Yoosung to grimace.  
“No…” Yoosung huffed at Zen’s disapproving face, twiddling his chopsticks in his hands nervously. After Zen didn’t do anything else other than raise an eyebrow, Yoosung scowled, picking up his phone and staring at the message again.  
Seven wanted him to come over… to come play LOLOL. It wasn’t an odd occurrence, but now knowing that he might have a crush on Yoosung…The butterflies in his tummy threatened to come up his throat, but he responded, a small smile on his face.  
Saturday, November 12, 2016  
10:03am  
Yoosung: sure!! what time?? im at zen’s so i have to go home to shower n stuff

Although he set his phone down, a few seconds later, he had a text. Blinking, he glanced at the screen to see that it was Seven. He had texted back really fast…

10:03am  
Seven: ooohhh zen’s place~~ something u need to tell me? Lololol  
Yoosung: no! its not like that. We were just watchin mad men. i might have a hangover.  
10:05am  
Seven: aww poor bb Yoosung with his low alcohol tolerance 3: so cute lol  
Seven: just come ovr whenever, im vegging out on the couch

Yoosung’s cheeks flared red at the ‘so cute lol’ comment even though he knew that Seven made comments like that all the time about everyone…  
Or did he?  
Wracking his brain, he found that couldn’t’ find an instance where Seven had called another member of the RFA cute. Besides him. The heat in his cheeks intensified and he couldn’t hold back the tiny, pleased smile that crept across his face.  
“Now that’s what I like to see on you, Yoosung,” Zen said, setting down his bowl and taking a sip of his water.  
“What?” asked Yoosung, pressing his cold hands to his cheeks to try and cool down.  
“A smile,” Zen replied, grinning and putting more rice in Yoosung’s bowl.

 

A few hours later, Yoosung was showered, changed, and standing in his living room, wondering if he needed to bring anything to Seven’s. Usually, he either packed a bag with some pajamas or he just went there already in his pajamas so that he could spend the night easily. But… if he told Seven how he felt and brought his pajamas, would he be sending signals he couldn’t back up? Would Seven think he would…want to…  
Shaking his head, he decided to just bring his pajamas like there was nothing wrong, figuring that even if Seven rejected him, the two could still try and play video games like he hadn’t just poured out his heart and made himself super vulnerable.  
Shit.  
He felt anxiety again, unfurling itself in his gut, and he tried to ignore it, wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans. Gathering his things, he began stuffing them in his bag, making a mental note not to forget his mouse. There was a special mouse he liked playing with that Seven had gotten him a year or so ago—it was bright green and had little cat and star stickers all over it. Although it would sometimes stop working and it was hard to click, it was his and he loved it. No matter where he went, it was the mouse he used to game with.  
After getting everything together, he stared nervously at the cologne that Zen had gotten him for that previous Christmas in the hopes that “he would be able to snag someone with the enticing scent”. It seemed silly to use it, but… if he was already jumping without a parachute, it wouldn’t hurt…Steeling his nerves, he snatched the glass bottle, trying to remember what Jumin had told him about applying the cologne.  
With a quick, erratic spritz he got the base of his throat, taking a deep breath in at the warm scent. Zen was right, though—it was a very nice smell and hopefully Seven would like it…  
Before leaving, though, he checked himself in the mirror one last time, making sure everything was right. His eyes looked slightly panicked, but at least they weren’t bloodshot from last night. Some concealer had effectively covered up his dark circles and he, thankfully, wasn’t as pale as he had been that morning. His hair, slightly damp, was beginning to fluff out a bit, although there wasn’t much he could do about that besides frown at it and pull back part of his bangs, securing them with his signature bobby pins. Then he stared at them, his frown growing.  
He always wore those bobby pins. It was predictable, like he was, like he had always been told he was. Right now, though…he wanted to be impulsive. He wanted to be someone who actually had the courage to tell Seven how he felt. Fingers fumbling, he tore out the bobby pins, cursing when they ripped out some of his hair, then ruffled his bangs so that they fell slightly over one eye. Flashing himself a confident smile, he turned to leave the bathroom, then cursed again as a shoulder slammed into the doorjamb.  
Saturday, November 12th, 2016  
1:34 pm  
Yoosung: im comin over now is that cool?  
Seven: aaaaahhh ya finally!! im still on the couch dude lol just let urself in. bring ur dictionary tho.

Yoosung grumbled, grabbing the ridiculous Arabic dictionary that Seven had bought him, shoving it into the bag. Alright, he was pretty sure he had everything…  
With one last deep breath, he stepped out of his apartment, mind already miles away in the living room of a certain hacker…

Fifteen minutes later, Yoosung had been dropped off by a cab in front of Seven’s home, facing a formidable gate.  
“Password?” the gate squawked, the sound grating on Yoosung’s nerves. Glancing back down at his phone where Seven had sent the passwords (‘elly is a perfect angel’ and ‘yoosung can’t hold his liquor’ were the two for the day), Yoosung carefully pronounced the Arabic words, wincing when his fumbled the world for liquor. However, the door swung open and Yoosung stepped in, toeing off his shoes and trying not to throw up at how his heart threatened to pound out of his chest. He made his way to the living room, remembering how Seven said he’d be on the couch waiting for him.  
Sure enough, Seven was there, splayed out lazily, hands tapping away on a controller, golden eyes trained on the large screen in front of him. At Yoosung’s appearance, though, he paused his game, grinning at the sight of the blonde man in front of him.  
“Finally! Did Zen really get you that fucked up?”  
Just Seven’s voice was enough to send a shiver down Yoosung’s spine, not to mention the sleepy way he regarded Yoosung, clothes rumpled from sitting on the couch for so long, hair sticking out every which way, eyes trained on Yoosung…  
“Oh? No. He just had to give me a few lectures,” Yoosung mumbled, feeling a spike of irritation at the memory of Zen trying to give him hours of advice on how to woo someone.  
“Sounds about right,” said Seven, laughing. “You ready to LOLOL?” The smirk on his face made Yoosung’s knees weak, but he just nodded, following Seven to the computers.  
Whenever Yoosung came over, he just used one of Seven’s extra computers, considering how many he had. It was just easier than bringing his laptop, which often liked to lag. But the one thing of his own that he did bring was the mouse.  
Which was not there. In his bag.  
He rummaged more, growing more frustrated as his searching proved fruitless.  
Then he realized—he had been too focused on how his hair looked to remember to grab it. He had been too nervous about coming over to Seven’s, about confessing, that he had forgotten his lucky mouse…  
“You okay?”  
With a jolt, Yoosung realized that Seven had been staring at him this whole time, eyebrows furrowed in concern.  
“Uh, I’m fine. I just forgot my mouse…The one you got me.” He sounded so dejected and he wanted to change it to sound happier, but he just couldn’t help it. It was the one thing he always remembered, but he had been so flustered… Seven’s voice broke into his thoughts, which were bound to get self-deprecating.  
“Use mine, then. I got it at the same time as yours.”  
Without much ceremony, a mouse was dropped in front of him. It was the exact same as his own except that it was red, and instead of cats and stars, it was cats and tiny rocket ships.  
“This…this is yours?”  
“Yeah, have you not seen me playing with it before? It’s the one I always use.”  
There was a moment where they just looked at each other, making intense eye contact, before Seven turned away, cheeks suspiciously pink.  
Soon the two were playing in the LOLOL world, taking down trolls left and right, looting and enjoying the exclusive content that had just come out. Yoosung had forgotten how fun it was to play with Seven, even if he often teased Yoosung about how ridiculous his character’s armor looked or that he was #2 to Seven’s #1.  
But, he reflected, as he watched Seven fist pump after defeating a giant horde of goblins, he found that he didn’t really mind being second to someone as amazing as Seven. Especially when he would cheer Yoosung on or give him extra items just because.  
While waiting for a map to load, Yoosung closed his eyes, resting his head against the back of the chair, feeling how tired he was and reflecting what he had promised himself and Zen. He had to do it… He knew he had to. Otherwise he would just be miserable, especially since Zen had told him about Seven possibly returning his feelings. It would eat him alive if he never asked. And he would…he just had to find the right time.

Yoosung woke up, confused and warm. One second he was waiting for a LOLOL map to load, the next…He was wrapped up in a blanket and on Seven’s couch…?  
Sitting up, he realized that he had been lying right next to Seven, his head mere centimeters from Seven’s thigh. Cheeks burning, he cleared his throat slightly, running a hand through his hair.  
“Oh, hey. You fell asleep at a loading screen and it’s not as fun when you’re knocked out, so I brought you over to the couch. _Madoka Magica_ ’s getting really good.” Seven spoke casually although Yoosung almost choked when he saw that Seven had stripped to nothing but his black tank top, biceps on display and flexing as Seven reached over to grab a bag of chips from his other side. Fully sitting up, the blanket fell off of Yoosung and he reached for it, wrapping it around him like he was a babushka, pulling the top of it over his head to cover his hair. Then he stared at Seven, admiring the way the light of the tv washed over his features, accentuating his very faint freckles, making his golden eyes bright. The fact that Seven had carried him over here, put on one of his favorite animes, and stopped playing LOLOL just for him…? Well…it made his heart so warm that he had no idea what to do with it, needing something to quench the heat.  
“Thanks for carrying me over here,” said Yoosung, scooting closer to Seven, closing the gap by inches every few seconds.  
“Eh, no problem. The content is subpar anyways. I mean, those swords looked cool in the advertisement, but in gameplay, they’re totally unrealistic and look like plastic---” Seven turned his head to finally, finally look at Yoosung, his annoyed expression becoming slack when he noticed just how close to Seven that Yoosung had gotten. Their thighs were almost touching; there was mere centimeters apart between them. As Yoosung watched, Seven licked his lips, almost nervously, and shifted, though he didn’t move away—in fact, he moved closer, pressing their thighs together. Yoosung’s face immediately burst into flames.  
“Yeah,” said Yoosung, trying to fill the awkward silence, but also having almost no idea what Seven had been talking about.  
“You’re really close to me,” whispered Seven, running his palms down his thighs, wiping them off, most likely. (He always had really sweaty hands.)  
“Yeah. Does it… bother you?”  
Seven’s golden eyes flickered up and down Yoosung’s body, lingering on Yoosung’s hands, where their bodies were touching, and Yoousung’s lips before settling to meet Yoosung’s gaze.  
“No.”  
The air was abruptly charged, a tension that the both of them could undeniably feel crackling between them. Every fiber of Yoosung’s body screamed to touch Seven anyway he could, whether it was taking his hand or kissing that stupid attractive face of his.  
And he was attractive, there was no denying that—his smile could fell armies and his biceps often caused Yoosung’s mind to short circuit. But he was also caring and protective and knew just what to say to calm Yoosung down and make him feel better. He didn’t roll his eyes when Yoosung talked about LOLOL and he didn’t make Yoosung wonder if he was a failure. Yoosung hadn’t felt as safe as he did with Seven in years. There was something about being with Seven that made him feel right, like all the puzzle pieces in the world were coming together to finally fit for once, even if some of the edges had to be forcibly smoothed out.  
Without breaking eye contact, Yoosung reached out, his fingers curling around Seven’s. Sure enough, Seven’s hands were sweaty and warm, but Yoosung didn’t care. It was part of Seven, an endearing trait that made him the guy Yoosung liked. Seven jumped slightly when their fingers linked, but he didn’t pull away, instead turning red and glancing down at his lap, breaking the eye contact they had maintained.  
“You don’t have to do this, you know…” murmured Seven, continuing to stare down at his lap as if it held all the secrets in the universe.  
“Do what?” Yoosung wanted nothing more than to play with Seven’s fingers, wondering how strong they were to be always hacking or playing video games.  
“Pretend…like you have feelings for me. I don’t know what Zen told you, but…” Seven had finally looked up and stopped talking when he saw the look on Yoosung’s face.  
“Do you really think I’d do that to you? Pretend?” Yoosung demanded, a pout slipping over his face. “No, I don’t do that. I don’t lie like that and I don’t play with people’s feelings.”  
“So you…” Seven seemed like he couldn’t believe it, his eyes wide with wonder and disbelief, fingers tightening around Yoosung’s.  
“…Yes.” Yoosung gathered up all of his courage and found that, while staring into Seven’s eyes, holding his hand, he didn’t actually need that much of it.  
“I like you, Seven.”  
There were a few moments where Seven simply closed his eyes, seeming to gather himself. When his eyes opened, he fixed his burning gaze on Yoosung, deadly serious.  
“Are you sure?”  
“Yes, I am.” Even when Seven was giving him that look, like he could devour him, Yoosung was sure of his feelings.  
“God, thank you,” Seven seemed to whisper, though the words were so hushed Yoosung couldn’t really make them out. While they were talking, the two had been gradually leaning closer and closer together until Seven’s face was mere inches from his own.  
“God, you smell so good… You have all night,” muttered Seven softly, his other hand coming up to rest on the side of Yoosung’s neck. While trying to breathe, Yoosung made a mental note to thank Zen for the cologne.  
“Can I kiss you?” he asked in the same breath, his voice barely any louder.  
It all came down to this. This moment. The moment that Yoosung had been dreaming of for months. All the fantasies of how Seven’s lips had felt against his would be shattered right now with the real thing, and even as Yoosung’s heart stuttered out a nervous beat, he nodded.  
Then Seven was leaning forward and Yoosung was meeting him in the middle, and their lips were touching, and Yoosung felt it down to the tips of his toes. The light pressure against his mouth was slightly damp and warm, but it was gone all too soon—but Seven was leaning back in for more, parting his lips and encouraging Yoosung to do the same. Feeling Seven’s mouth against his finally, _finally,_ was so exhilarating and comforting that he couldn’t help but feel super sappy. Though this was his first kiss (that he counted, the others were elementary school dares) he couldn’t but feel like he knew what he was doing when it came to Seven. There was just something so--  
Then Seven lapped at Yoosung’s lips, sliding his tongue into Yoosung’s mouth, and Yoosung had never felt more out of his element in his entire life. The act wasn’t exactly scandalous, but he couldn’t help his face burning bright red at the fact that Seven was sticking his tongue into Yoosung’s mouth. After noticing that Yoosung didn’t really know what he was doing, Seven pulled back a bit, nibbling gently on Yoosung’s bottom lip before retreating.  
Their noses were touching, they were still so close, but Seven’s eyes were soft and lovely, shining from the light of the movie, mouth damp from their kiss.  
“So… do you like me too?” asked Yoosung, giving Seven a cheeky smile. With a chuckle, Seven leaned in again, grinning against Yoosung’s lips.  
“Yeah, I think I do.”


End file.
